Free Long Road Home by Joann Ross Page B

hair that disappeared under that unfastened waistband, sorely tempted to follow it with her fingers, she slipped her hands into the pockets of her jeans to keep them out of trouble.
    “And this stool beats sitting on a rock or my helmet to eat.”
    “You’re not in Afghanistan anymore,” she reminded him. Without waiting for permission, she went down the short hall to the larger of the three bedrooms. “You don’t even have a bed.”
    “Again, not needed.”
    Which told Austin all she needed to know. If he’d intended to make a move on her, wouldn’t he at least want a mattress to tumble her on?
    A silence as wide as Black Bear River during a high spring runoff stretched between them. Although it might have been a trick of the sun streaming into the window, she thought she saw his eyes darken.
    Was he thinking the same thing she was? Was he remembering that impulsive kiss they’d shared? Could he, like she’d done countless times, be imagining taking it deeper, hotter, to its natural conclusion?
    Which, she admitted, as heat from Sawyer’s eyes warmed her skin, wouldn’t need a proper bed.
    “I was just thinking about you,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his military-short-cropped hair.
    “Were you?” When you were in the shower ?
    “Yeah. I got a call from Heather earlier.”
    “Oh?” Pretending that she had no idea what it might be about, Austin took her hands from her pockets and ran her thumb back and forth over a nail she’d chipped earlier on a fence gate.
    “Did she call you?”
    “Not today,” she hedged. Damn if this wasn’t getting more and more like high school. “But she dropped by yesterday with the kids.”
    “Did she mention going to dinner with her and Tom at the New Chance?”
    “It came up in passing.” It was Austin’s turn to shrug. “We pretty much left the idea up in the air.”
    “Well, she said she’d like us both to come. On Friday.”
    Her heart hitched. For a moment, Austin forgot how to breathe. “What did you say?”
    “At first I said I didn’t think it was a good idea.”
    Which, from the fact that he hadn’t come over and said as much as hello since leasing the pasture, wasn’t that much of a surprise. If he’d wanted to spend time with her, it wasn’t exactly as if they were still living on different continents.
    “I suppose you have a lot to do,” she said helpfully. “Getting back into the swing of civilian life.”
    “I’m adjusting okay.” The firm set of his chin suggested that the statement through tight teeth wasn’t the whole truth, but Austin wasn’t going to challenge him on it. “But it was the idea of crashing their anniversary that seemed weird.”
    “That’s what I thought,” Austin admitted.
    “Then she said how she’d been wanting time to talk to me at the party, but she’d been too busy helping dish up the food, then cleaning up, for us to have any time alone.”
    “You said it was quite a crowd.”
    “Yeah.” He rubbed his jaw. He hadn’t had that light beard when he’d kissed her, and now, watching the absent gesture had her wondering what it would feel like. Against her face. Her breasts. And, dear heaven, lower still. “Hanging out with the two of them again could seem like old times, I guess.”
    “I always have fun with them. And, of course, their kids.” Although she was still nervous, worried that he might sense that he’d been set up, Austin felt her lips smiling. As they always did when she thought of Jack and Sophie.
    “They’ve grown up a lot,” Sawyer said. “And changed. Sophie’s nearly a young lady, and Jack, well, he’s a firecracker.”
    Austin laughed at the spot-on description. “He is. He reminds me of you at that age.”
    He lifted a brow. “I may have presented a challenge to my folks, but I never had to be rescued from a tree.”
    “A tree?”
    “Yeah. He climbed a big old apple tree in the orchard at the party while no one was looking and got himself so far out on a limb he